No Time For Heartache
by Erishkagel
Summary: Belle returns to her old life after Rumplestiltskin banishes her, but it's not what she wants...
1. Chapter 1

_**Authors note; I own nothing of OUAT, mores the pity. If I did there'd be much more Rumple stalking around the place in those leather trousers. Ahem, on another note I've rated this as M just to be on the safe side. This is my first attempt at creative writing since I was a child, and my very first attempt of creative writing involving sex. If it's really that bad let me know. I'll for-warn potential readers that there are other chapters to follow. Let me know if you want to read and I shall publish with malice of forethought...**_

And as he thrust himself into her, Belle screamed his name. It spurred him on further. Hands braced either side of her, he thrust ever deeper, pushing her back against the cold wall of her dungeon cell whilst she clung onto the chains wrapped around her wrists. He felt her walls closing in around him, and he came inside her, panting in her ear. He lowered her legs from around his waist, and...

Belle stretched happily under the covers of the large comfy bed in his quarters. Then furrowed her brows. There was something wrong. Why did his quarters not carry his scent? Why could she not hear him breathing beside her? She opened her eyes, and the illusion was gone, replaced with the harsh reality of morning.

No, this was not the dark castle. She was not lying in his bed. She'd not managed to seduce him to prove her feelings for him. This was her father's castle, and in a castle full of her family and friends she was alone. After their final conversation in her cell Rumplestiltskin had banished her. She barely had enough time to finish what she was saying when she was enveloped in a plume of purple smoke. When it cleared she was in the grounds of her father's castle. Despite what she had said to him, she was also alone, with only her dreams of him and that's all they would ever be. Just dreams. Belle prepared for the day ahead. Not that anything would change. She had a role in her father's kingdom and it was one role only. To prepare for a marriage that she would not necessarily want in order to widen the Kingdom and strengthen ties with neighbouring kingdoms.

King Maurice was of course overjoyed that his daughter Belle was returned unharmed. His joy increased exponentially when Belle assured him that despite the dissolution of her contract with Rumplestiltskin he would not return the ogres to their kingdom, and that he had also, despite her very best efforts, not violated her. All she'd had was a very brief, chaste kiss that was over all too soon.

Belle on her return had insisted that her engagement to Gaston be nullified. Maurice was happy to acquiesce in this regard. With the threat of the ogre wars gone there was no imperative to marry Belle to the highest bidder in order to secure troops, weapons and funds. Besides, Gaston was no longer overly keen on the match, viewing Belle as damaged goods just through association alone with The Dark One. This was the only area in which he would cave to Belle. He would seem the benevolent father, releasing her from an engagement she did not want. Of course, she would be so happy with this she would agree to anything he later asked. Yes, he was fairly confident that now he could mould her into his idea of the perfect Princess.

Other than some determination to speak up for herself more in matters that concerned her, Belle seemed remarkably unchanged by life with the beast. Maurice noted with disdain that she still carried on with her hobbies somewhat unbecoming of a lady of her rank. She read and liked to broaden her mind. She enjoyed exercise outside over sewing with her ladies. It was rumoured she also liked sword fighting with some of his troops, and more worryingly he had heard from more than one cook that Belle had often been seen in the kitchens kneading dough and cooking entire meals thus rendering the services of the cooks negligible. Maurice sat back and smiled unconcernedly at Belle across the breakfast table, contemplating that for now she could still enjoy her little hobbies. For all that she was tainted by life with The Dark One, she was still highly eligible and an excellent marriage match for any of the nobles in Maurice's kingdom. It would be for her future husband to decide how Belle would spend her free time. Maurice need not concern himself with curtailing her...oddities...for the time present. Maurice mistook Belle's quiet manner as a sign that she was finally accepting her role in life. Yes, he could let time take its course.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note; Ah go on. I just couldn't help myself...**_

Belle's favourite hobby at present was crying. She'd tried her previous hobbies to see if one could lift her mood. All to no avail. She found it difficult to read. Anything she read took her mind back to where her heart was lying in shards on the floor of her dungeon, and his words that his power meant more to him than she did burned through her once again. Her books were a painful reminder of the nights sitting in the great hall whilst Rumplestiltskin spun, feigning reluctance to listen to her read to him, yet complaining when she stopped. The fire casting shadows along the walls, and Rumplestiltskin casting glances in her direction when he thought she wasn't looking. Those glances of his always warmed her more than the fire did. Yes, books were out for now.

So she tried walking in the grounds of Maurice's castle instead. And thought back to when, after a few months, Rumplestiltskin had finally realised that his caretaker needed fresh air, and granted her full access to the grounds of the Dark Castle. Of course, he'd regretted this when on returning from one of his deals he found his castle had seemingly been redecorated by an unhinged florist with an unhealthy attachment to roses. And then there had been the incident of the snowball fight. He'd been bested four out of five times. His ego was taking a battering. The fifth time he'd used magic. Belle found herself picking icicles off her hair and eyelashes for hours afterwards in front of the fire. Snow infused with magic did not melt as quickly as unmagicked snow.

Sword fighting was also not a good idea. That just reminded her of shooing Rumplestiltskin out of her kitchens when he was in one of his more mischievous moods with the rather large chopping knife she usually reserved for culinary challenges. Besides, the way she was feeling she was just as likely to run someone through as just parry.

_Maybe food would help_ pondered Belle. Her stomach growled in response. It was breakfast so reluctantly she made her way to the dining room. Perhaps King Maurice had already dined so she would not need to sit through him planning her life again.

The Mad Hatter arrived in the grounds of the Dark Castle somewhat flustered. He needed a cup of tea. Badly. His favourite hobby was terrorizing the villagers and he'd been unashamedly indulging this passion. Again. And had narrowly missed his body being separated from his head. Again. However this time he had to extricate himself from the rather uncomfortable predicament of being suspended over a rather large pot of boiling oil. Rumplestiltskin had not come to his rescue. Extricating himself was a first. Jefferson was perhaps Rumplestiltskin's only friend. Or more accurately the only person who came close to being Rumplestiltskin's only friend. The Hatter was annoyed. Rumplestiltskin always, albeit at the last possible second, came to Jefferson's rescue. _Usually only a hairs breadth away from a burning torch and sharp pitchfork making contact with my precious hat_ Jefferson thought as he trudged through the grounds. The grounds were as well tended as ever. He knew that Belle did little more than a little light pruning now and again. Rumplestiltskin had always managed the upkeep of his castle perfectly well through magic. With the exception of cooking and dusting around the finer antiques in his collection. Hence large parts of the castle being besieged by layers of dust and the kitchens spotless through lack of use. Jefferson had become accustomed to refusing food offered by Rumplestiltskin, and his tea left much to be desired. Jefferson was greatly surprised at coming across Belle during one of his visits to Rumplestiltskin, and despite the Dark One's initial protestations that he needed a caretaker for his large estate felt it was more likely that Rumplestiltskin wanted a permanent companion. Indeed over the months of Belle living there, Rumplestiltskin's repeated denials of harbouring feelings for his 'caretaker' became increasingly feeble. _Rather a strange way of going about getting companionship_, Jefferson thought, _but then if you were convinced that the only way you could get someone to stay with you was through one of those 'deals'..._

Jefferson had taken an immediate liking to Belle. She was lively and chatty and seemed thoroughly unconcerned with Rumplestiltskin's reputation. Aside from Jefferson she was the only person who did not view Rumplestiltskin with fear and distrust. She happily stood up to him, and if anything she seemed positively happy to live with him and in turn Rumplestiltskin had started to accommodate her. At Belle's behest the drapes covering the windows had come down. Ostensibly to prevent further possible injury to Belle as she had fallen the first time she'd tried taking them down. Owing to Rumplestiltskin's eyes following Belle's every move he caught her just before she hit the floor. Jefferson suspected that Rumplestiltskin readily agreed to Belle's request simply because she had asked. And that further close proximity to Belle might just send his friend into overdrive. Tea and meals were served leisurely in the great hall rather than Rumplestiltskin hurriedly bolting down food before rushing back to his workrooms. The great hall now contained comfortable furniture, rather than just Rumplestiltskin's spinning wheel. Belle also served the best tea Jefferson had ever tasted and his mouth was beginning to water at the prospect of this. On the whole the Dark Castle seemed almost a cheerful abode. Jefferson would have to say that Belle was the best deal Rumplestiltskin had made in a long time.

Jefferson continued up the path winding towards the doors, and paused. Although the wards protecting the Dark Castle still held, the doors were open. Rumplestiltskin usually left nothing to chance. Queen Regina was constantly looking for ways to take him down. Somewhat confused, Jefferson passed through and entered the impressive entrance hall. The candles were all out, there was no light save the half light of dusk filtering through the windows. Through the gloom he could make out the doors leading off from the entrance hall to the other parts of the castle, which now lay in silence. There were no muffled sounds coming from the kitchens, nor loud bangs followed by even louder screams emanating from Rumplestiltskin's workrooms._ Perhaps Rumplestiltskin has finally confessed his feelings to Belle and left the castle unsecured in a fit of passion _Jefferson thought,_ which would also go some way to explain his not assisting my escape. _Reluctantly pondering interrupting his rather fractious friend he decided against this course of action and continued on through to the great hall. There were some things he would never want to see, and once seen could never be unseen. Rumplestiltskin could usually be found in the great hall at this time, making excuses to spin whilst he watched Belle read, but in their absence he'd wait in the great hall for the Enchanted Forest's most unlikely lovers to resurface.


	3. Chapter 3

And there he found Rumplestilskin. Sitting in what was now the ruins of the once great hall, shards of glass strewn over the floor. The priceless antiques Rumplestiltskin had spent centuries collecting lay shattered, surrounding him. Jefferson halted in his tracks.

"Rumplestiltskin?"

No response.

"Where's Belle?"

At the mention of her name Rumplestiltskin looked up at his friend. "She's gone". Then he looked down, focusing again on the floor beneath him.

"No chance of tea then?" Rumplestilskin did not answer but continued to stare beneath him.

"What happened here?" Again Rumplestiltskin did not reply. Jefferson edged forward, and on closer inspection could see that Rumplestiltskin was not staring at the floor, but was enraptured by an object held in his lap. Edging forward again, Jefferson could see it was the chipped cup that Rumplestiltskin insisted on using shortly after Belle's arrival. He knelt in front of Rumplestiltskin and attempted to take the cup, to help his friend up and get some sense out of him. With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, Rumplestiltskin sent the Hatter flying backwards, crashing into the wall. Jefferson scrambled to his feet but Rumplestiltskin didn't even look up, didn't acknowledge Jefferson's presence any further.

The sound of the Evil Queen's laughter echoed from the shards of glass encircling Rumplestiltskin, and resonated throughout the castle as Jefferson left.

For all that Jefferson's being the Dark One's only friend made him certifiably insane; Jefferson was shrewd enough to know that he needed Rumplestiltskin's friendship. Despite the years of threats of being turned into short lived animals or other mishaps, he'd only been on the receiving end of Rumplestiltskin's wrath 17 times. And of those 17 times all were within the few months of Belle's occupancy of the castle, when Rumplestiltskin grew uneasy and wary of Jefferson's friendship with her. Nevertheless Rumplestiltskin's wrath usually abated within a few hours, or more usually when Belle would happen upon Jefferson suspended in mid air dripping with icy water from the buckets of water Rumplestiltskin periodically made materialise and then hurled at him, and demanded explanations of Rumplestiltskin. _I'm not the one getting hot under the dragon hide collar at Belle_, Jefferson had often thought bitterly. _Rumplestiltskin would be better off hurling ice water at himself._ With Jefferson's penchant for getting himself into somewhat perilous situations through his insistence of importuning the lives of the villagers, he needed Rumplestiltkin's friendship to ensure his survival. Besides, he actually liked Rumplestiltskin and was proud of the fact he was, hitherto prior to Belle's arrival, the only houseguest to make repeated overnight stays at the Dark Castle and walk away alive the following morning. He knew that secretly Rumplestiltskin enjoyed his company, and not just the potential services he offered as a portal jumper at low low prices. He needed to find Belle. His first port of call would be King Maurice's castle. Somewhat optimistically he wondered about the tea served in Maurice's domain, and once again made use of his hat...

The stranger, now clothed in muted green at the edge of King Maurice's grounds listened with interest to the conversation of the ladies who appeared to be Belle's maids. He could see Belle sitting with her back to a tree, a book fallen open on her lap but her eyes gazing off into the middle distance. The ladies surrounding her were obviously accustomed to her quietness of late as the conversation turned to gossip surrounding the Dark One's sexual appetites, and they coarsely and lasciviously repeated the stories of what he had subjected their Lady to. Whilst Rumplestiltskin himself was usually the source of the more outlandish escapades of the Dark Lord's and the stranger enjoyed hearing them, when they involved Belle the stories lost their humour. Belle sat, not hearing or seeing anything in front of her. Again, her mind was back at the Dark Castle. Satisfied that Belle was at the very least physically unharmed, Jefferson crept away again. He wanted very much to talk to her now, but knew that a strange man walking unbidden through the King's grounds was not a welcome sight and therefore it would be unwise of him to appear thus, especially when he couldn't rely on Rumplestiltskin's saving him just in the nick of time. No, he'd have to wait for a more opportune moment. And in the meantime find some more...elegant attire. Muted green was just so passé.

Belle sat hearing the chatter of the maids around her but not listening to the particulars of the conversation. She was lost in her thoughts again. There was little point in talking to her maids, or any of the other ladies at court. She was in a gilded cage here. Everyone envied her position. A life of luxury and indolence, waited on hand and foot, wanting for nothing. Not one of them would understand her predicament and her longing for excitement. Most likely they would, with the best of intentions, report everything back to the King in the hope he could make her feel better. She could have lived this life once but for that one moment of bravery in going with Rumplestiltskin. Her books always contained adventure but that was something that only happened to other people. Then it happened to her. _I want more than what this life can offer me. I will have more than this life can offer me._

She thought wistfully of the months before the kiss. The months when she was not sure whether she really loved him, or just the thought of him. It was easy to convince herself that she did not really love him, that she was confused as, save for the visits from Jefferson, he was her only company. It made it easy for her to indulge in her fantasies; fantasies based on a short lived infatuation were harmless and she could easily wait for that infatuation to pass. But the kiss had changed everything. And changed it for the worse. It had proved that this was true love, and she couldn't get past true love, her feelings couldn't be dismissed as a transient obsession. _And I want more than this futile love can offer me._


	4. Chapter 4

King Maurice grew weary of his daughter's malaise. He assumed, wrongly, that she was regretting the calling off of her engagement to Gaston, and was happily determined to rectify this. To this end, he announced a ball to his daughter.

"You should be happy with this. You always used to like a good ball. The dancing, the conversation, the merrymaking..."

"Papa please, I'm in no mood for 'merrymaking' right now". Belle toyed with the food in front of her and thought longingly of the kitchen's at the Dark Castle.

King Maurice put down his fork and looked at her over the spread of the breakfast table. "Of course you are, it's just the diversion you need. It'll be a masquerade. Everyone will be in costume. There'll be plenty of other nobles there to take your mind of what you could have had with Gaston..." Maurice's words faded into the background.

What she could have had with Gaston. Yes, a life of being an ornament on someone's arm rather than a person in her own right. Of course that's what she was pining for. Not the life she'd wanted with Rumplestiltskin and so nearly had. Despite the terms of their contract, he'd offered her freedom. As long as her chores, which were very light and limited to laundry, dusting the finer treasures and cooking his meals that he couldn't trust to magic, were done her time was her own. He'd gifted her with a library, with practical new clothes that didn't include a suffocating corset, with conversation and debates that challenged her, knowledge about the outside world that even within her own father's tutors was limited to who was the son of whom. He'd even given her her own suite of rooms; the best guest rooms not too far from his own quarters. She'd had a sitting room, a large bedroom housing an equally large bed, an enormous wardrobe, and the bathroom held some beautifully fragranced oils that he must have taken advice on procuring for her. Of course, he insisted (fairly unconvincingly) he'd need her dungeon to help house the hordes of Robin Hood wannabe's who'd try their hand at stealing from the Dark One once word got out it was possible. He'd eventually trusted her to go to the village and not bring back a mob to kill the monster. In short, she'd had a life with Rumplestiltskin and he had thrown that away. And here she was, once again, little more than a pawn in her father's political intrigues to be married off at an opportune moment to the right Prince. King Maurice was not a cruel man, or a bad father. It was just that he was unable to see beyond his holding the crown and extending his kingdom. Individual wishes did not matter when the future of the kingdom was at stake, and the future of any kingdom was always at stake. King Maurice was simply unable to contemplate any will or idea that did not coincide with the best interests of the kingdom. And to his mind happily the interests of the kingdom coincided with what was in Belle's best interests.

Belle sighed. "Belle, have you even been listening to what I've been saying? Your head spends far too much time in the clouds, better you had a husband to keep you grounded in the real world." Maurice picked up his cutlery again and renewed his interest in the omelette half eaten on his plate.

"Yes Papa, a ball would be lovely". Belle rolled her eyes and slumped back in her chair. She had no energy to fight against her father now, no interest in anything. Except adventure. Belle had seen the world outside her kingdom and wanted to see more.

"Have something to eat Belle. I think your hobbies are leaving little time for your appetite to develop. I have plenty of potential suitors lined up for you and none will want to marry a skeleton". Belle skewered a slice of toast with her fork and peered at it with no longing. Her father preferred plain fare, and this was in sharp contrast to the sumptuous meals she had prepared at the Dark Castle. The kitchens had been her domain exclusively and Rumplestiltskin had proved to be a very willing victim for her culinary experiments. She'd developed a fondness for food there and now had little taste for what her father asked his cooks to prepare.

Duly, the ball was announced and the kingdom was aflutter with excitement. Invitations were sent out, including to a reluctant Gaston, however his reluctance waned upon remembrance of the rather large dowry a marriage to Belle would bring. Yes, he could let Maurice entice him to marry Belle, perhaps inveigle a larger dowry this time to take into account the taint of the Dark One.

Jefferson, skulking around with the villagers going about their business in the courtyard, caught whispers of the ball, and smiled. He'd be in his element. Aside from being a dedicated follower of millinery, he also enjoyed the finer points of couture and took great pleasure in exhibiting his creations to a bewildered Rumplestiltskin, or more frequently to a poor beleaguered villager.

On the night of the ball Jefferson, dressed in his finest new creation, drew admiring glances from the court maidens. It would be easy to gain admittance. He scanned the crowd gathering outside and his gaze fell upon a young lady, separated from the herd by a carriage that barrelled its way through to the stables. Jefferson sauntered towards her, ever the gallant hero, and offered his hand.

"May I be of assistance" he enquired, confident in the attraction for him emanating from his target.

The young lady accepted his hand gratefully. "I seem to have lost my friends" she sighed, looking around. "I don't recognise you" she continued, as her glance once again rested on the Hatter.

"It's a masked ball" he replied, a devilish grin stretching across his face, "you're not meant to recognise anyone here until the unmasking. Let me introduce myself in the mean time. I am the Marquis of...Chapeaux" he improvised. "And you are...?" he gestured at the young lady.

"I am the young lady you will be escorting in seeing as my friends have vanished. In keeping with the traditions of a masked ball I will refrain from introducing myself until midnight". Her eyes sparkled behind the silver facade of her mask and Jefferson's eyebrows shot up in hope. He did so enjoy a good flirting and his anonymous acquaintance seemed inclined to the same. The court maiden's blood red lips curled into an appreciative smile. Men were so easy. She looked forward to the evening's entertainment of watching the Belle of the ball be courted by her coven of suitors.


	5. Chapter 5

"Belle! It's so good to see you back again. Of course I was very pleased that you had escaped that cruel imp. Tell me, does he, er, does he plan to return the ogres to us in retaliation for your escape...?...No! That's excellent, your escape that is..." Belle listened politely to the nobles clustering around her all asking the same questions, one after another. How did she escape? What did he do to her? Will Rumplestiltskin plan on brining the ogres back in revenge? Oh, and of course their main concern that she was unharmed. Listlessly she re-assured all in attendance that she was in good health, he had let her go and was certainly not going to re-instate the ogre wars. The intricately decorated masks surrounding her breathed sighs of relief underneath their carefully construed words of concern.

Belle noted that King Maurice, in his infinite wisdom, had invited Gaston in the misguided belief that Belle would reconsider the engagement. Thankfully Gaston persisted in his belief that Belle was tainted and so studiously avoided her; the lure of a potentially increased dowry not enough to tempt him to accept the Dark One's castoffs, thus freeing Belle of the worry of fending off his wandering hands. She also noted that the other eligible nobles were wary of her and keeping their distance beyond their well wishing. She was therefore able to reply in bland dialogue to their mutterings whilst she planned for her future. Why Rumplestiltskin had returned her here, of all places, she could not guess. Perhaps he thought she would be safe here, which she was. But he knew she had wanted adventure which she would not get here. Well, she had the means to create her own. She'd need a reliable horse. The mares currently in her ownership were not made for long distance. They were built for a little light hunting, never going much more than a slow canter. She'd need one of her father's steeds, but she was on good terms with his stablehands so could procure one with ease. She'd need supplies from the kitchen but she was seen there so often now that poking her nose around would arouse no further suspicion. Her clothes were another matter. King Maurice insisted in her wearing what all proper ladies at court wore. Stiflingly tight corsets, heavy petticoats and even heavier and ornately decorated dresses. Clothes most unsuitable for any situation outside of courtly life. Rumplestiltskin had returned her, not the practical clothing that had found its way into her wardrobe.

Once again she failed to notice the stranger hiding in plain sight. His costume equally as gaudy as the other nobles. After escorting his anonymous acquaintance into the ballroom he parted company with her, pledging to seek her out for the first dance of the night, he circled the room. Strutting like a peacock in front of the more attractive young ladies of court and planning some debaucheries with one or more of them at a later date, his attention was never far away from Belle. Jefferson was concerned now that he had a closer look at Belle. She'd always been slender but she had curves to which Rumplestiltskin, when particularly drunk, had attested to worshipping in secret. However in the fortnight or so she'd been back in her father's kingdom she seemed thinner. Indeed he could see where her seamstress had had to take in her clothes. She was obviously bored. Her eyes had lost their sparkle and there seemed little life in her once animated features.

The lady with the blood red lips took in the scene around her. The beauty who had tempted the heart of the Dark One was wandering around the room disconsolately. She almost felt pity for Belle. Almost. But she was determined that no one should have their happy ending. Least of all that Imp. He was the reason, the ultimate reason, that her beloved was dead. Oh, yes, this was at the hands of her mother, but it was Rumplestiltskin who had taught her all she knew. Rumplestiltskin who had sparked that desire for all consuming power. If her happy ending was denied her, then it was denied to everyone. Of course, in the meantime there was no reason she could not seek out the beguiling stranger who had so kindly offered his hand to escort her in. A little fun never hurt anyone, and if not with him why not someone else. The slick twist of the red of her lips and skin like sin; she prowled the room in search of prey.

King Maurice surveyed what he felt to be an achievement. Many fine eligible young men were here to tempt Belle; she was sure to find favour with many of them and then his worries would be over. He had her life planned out as it should be. She was a princess, and thus deserved a life of ease. Not a life as a scullery maid borne out of some misguided desire for adventure. Marriage meant safety. For both of them. Marriage into another kingdom would bring new alliances. There was no guarantee that another Ogre War would not surface and he had seen enough death for a lifetime.

Belle's eyes scanned the room. She could no longer call one person in this room her friend. They were loyal courtiers. Loyal to King Maurice. And she was supposed to pick a suitor from the herd around her. The music swirled around her, and the dancers twisted around her in an increasing orgy of decadence, dizzying in their opulent splendour. Belle took a sip of the punch and sought her escape route. Her father was deep in conversation with Gaston, no doubt offering an increased dowry in exchange for an immediate engagement notice. Her guests were all otherwise occupied in dancing and sampling the fine dining that the castle's cooks provided. The castle guards outside would not bat an eyelid at her; she was a princess and mere servants did not raise their eyes to princesses on state occasions. This was her chance, and she would take it.

Turning to the ornate staircase at the end of the ballroom, she saw him standing there, and her heart skipped a beat.

_**Author's Note; It's not much of a spoiler. You know its Jefferson lurking in the shadows. But can he help Belle? And does he get that oh so longed for cup of Lapsang Souchong? Find out next week. Same Bat time, same Bat channel...**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note; ***Blushes*** Shucks, thanks for the lovely reviews guys. Y'all put a massive smile on my face! xxx**

Their eyes met across the room. It wasn't who she hoped to see behind that glittering mask. It was Jefferson but he would do. He'd been a good friend to her during her time at the Dark Castle and she needed a good friend more than anything. She strode towards him paying no heed to the prattling of the court. In turn they paid no attention to her. They'd satisfied their curiosity in her servitude at the Dark Castle and were now savouring the heady delights of gossip. Her heartbeat steadied despite the anticipation of news of her Rumple.

"Jefferson! How did you get here? How did you get through the gates? Belle had a million questions on her lips but unfortunately Jefferson could only answer one at a time.

"I hitched a ride. I snuck in." Jefferson allowed the smugness he was feeling about this to settle on his face.

Belle, in her best attempt at disinterestedness asked "And what about Rumple? Have you seen him?"

Jefferson smiled. "Yes, I've seen him." He smoothed his coat down waiting for her next question. He wasn't kept waiting long.

"How is he?" She looked away. Suddenly the pattern to her dress was a source of endless fascination. Anything to continue the disinterested air.

"Quite barmy. Yes, yes, I know. Pot, kettle and black." He added quickly at Belle's look.

In direct contradiction of courtly etiquette for the hostess of the ball she led Jefferson out to a balcony and closed the doors behind them.

"So, what happened? The castle is in ruins, Rumplestiltskin has reverted to monosyllablism and casual violence, and there was no tea to be found." Jefferson still hadn't recovered from his disappointment at the lack of hospitality he had become used to at the dark castle when Belle was resident.

Belle recounted the story..."and then I kissed him and it all fell apart". Jefferson gawped. He remembered to pull his jaw back up. _Belle made the first move? Really? Belle?_ Jefferson hadn't expected that. He had always thought that Rumplestiltskin would be the one to make the first move, but stranger things had happened. Belle reciprocating Rumplestiltskin's feelings, to name one.

Jefferson quirked a sardonic eyebrow at Belle. "So after months of barely disguised sexual tension you're telling me you went for just a kiss? One kiss?"

"He pushed me away. He realised the curse was beginning to break and he pushed me away. Believe me, I was hoping for more. Before I knew it I was back here and my father is trying to marry me off yet again." Belle gestured at the guests back in the ballroom.

"Old habits die hard I suppose." Jefferson followed Belle's gaze with distaste through the balcony doors at the choice of suitors Belle's father hoped she would pick from. Really it was a poor choice. Too old. Too young. Too self obsessed. Jefferson pitied her. Or would have had she been anyone else.

"Well, I've been thinking of a way out of here before Papa can put his plan into action. Now I've seen a life outside the kingdom I want to experience it again."

"Where were you thinking of going?" Jefferson asked, knowing full well Belle would jump at the offer he was about to make.

"Anywhere other than here!" Belle exclaimed. "You know what my father is planning. He'll never rest until I'm married, docile and with heirs to joint kingdoms. I'll go anywhere rather than stay here. And anywhere other than back to Rumplestiltskin. I don't want him thinking I'm crawling back to him. If he wants me, he can come find me" Belle fingered her mask. She hadn't put it on but had stood around carrying it. It seemed pointless wearing it. Everyone knew her, but for tonight she'd have given anything to be anonymous.

"I can play the hero for now, provide you with an easy escape route if you'd like?" Jefferson tried for a look of modesty but failed, instead allowing the smug expression to return happily to where it belonged. Belle's eyes lit up. "How?"

"Magic. My hat. It's a portal link but it can also transport between just places, rather than whole worlds. If I didn't keep losing it so much I probably wouldn't need Rumplestiltskin to bail me out of trouble so often, but I've always found it hard to resist a pretty face, and well, the hat's one of the first things to go..."

"Enough Hatter! Keep your sordid tales to yourself. I'll take you up on your offer" Belle swiped his arm in exasperation. One of Jefferson's manias at the dark castle had been to regale her and Rumplestiltskin with his amorous adventures. Rumplestiltskin usually disappeared to his workrooms during these times to escape the tedious details, but Belle? Well, she was a captive audience.

"I'll want something in return" Jefferson grinned longingly, thirstier by the second.

"You've been friends with Rumple too long" Belle teased

"Just tell me where I can get a cup of tea". Belle glared at the Hatter. Snatching his proffered hat she set it to spin on the floor and jumped.

Beaming with mischievousness, Jefferson opened the door to the balcony and sauntered back into the ballroom. He was very pleased with himself. Belle had fallen for it, hook line and sinker. If there was no danger of a cup of tea accosting him any time soon he would take a risk with the punch bowl. Belle's absence had gone unnoticed by all but one, the guests talking in hushed whispers of the lurid things they heard the Dark One enjoyed. Grinning at some of the more perverted imaginings spilling forth from obviously frustrated minds, Jefferson scanned the room in search of those blood red lips to corrupt and caught sight of his reflection in the mirrored wall. Yes, his brocade coat was as extravagant as anyone else's here, and provided a sharp contrast to the black of the leather trousers. Jefferson frowned. _Leather trousers? Tight black leather trousers? Gods, Belle was right, I have been friends with Rumplestiltskin too long. I'm even taking fashion tips from him. Straight from the Dark One's Winter Collection, exquisitely tailored and hardy enough to withstand even the most diabolical deal making. _His wardrobe needed an overhaul. Never mind. If he could find that young maid to corrupt he could probably persuade her to divest him of the now offending leather trousers.

Regina appeared in a whirl of smoke in her castle. Pacing, alone, and overcome with fury. Belle had disappeared from the ball. No doubt on her way back to the imp. _No happy ending_ she vowed. _My curse still stands and he will remain alone, in perpetuity. _Steeling herself for what she had to do, she called for her father.


	7. Chapter 7

_For our souls have crossed oceans of time_

_To clasp one another more tightly than death could alone_

*Cradle of Filth – Lustmord and Wargasm

In hindsight Belle should have asked where the hat would take her. Whether it would take her anywhere that Jefferson considered safe, or whether it was programmed to take her to one location. She'd always been impulsive; she'd have to work on that. Belle stopped spinning and her eyes adjusted to the view before her as the hat returned to its rightful owner. She was at the edge of the grounds of the Dark Castle. Yes, comparatively Jefferson was safer here than anywhere else. Inwardly she cursed Jefferson. She wanted adventure, not to run back to Rumple. _Well, _Belle consoled herself_, if I ever see Rumple enact one of his threats on Jefferson again I'll wait longer before stepping in_. As it was dark, Belle weighed her options. She'd reach the castle long before reaching the outlying villages. She also wanted answers and Rumple was the only person who could give them. So she started to walk in the direction of the castle, bathed in the glow of moonlight. The moon that she had stared at through the bars of her cell during her first nights at the castle, casting the grounds in an eerie dissonance against the serenity of the night. Belle shook herself out of her reverie. _This is not one of your novels_ she chastised herself, _and there is no white knight here to whisk you away to Happy Ever After. There is just...this, and what I choose to make of this._

Rumplestiltskin festered in the cell. He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, or how he got there. He just knew it smelled of her. Still, after all this time and her own quarters in the castle, this one small bare stone walled cell retained her scent more than anywhere else. He breathed in, exhaling regrets. Sending her back to her kingdom where even now she was surely entering into another engagement made him realise just how much he loved her, now that she was denied to him. But it was better this way. She was an unnecessary distraction, and he had a job to do. Regina would enact the curse and he would find his son. He had no time for love. He curled up further on the floor; surely Regina would hasten in her desire for revenge against their world and he could wait this out.

A murder of ravens above drew Belle's attention and she tripped over her skirts. Making a mental note to reacquaint herself with her sensible castle wardrobe at the earliest opportunity, Belle hitched her skirts up and continued grimly on. She was met by the same scene as met Jefferson, except that Jefferson had closed the main doors on his rather hasty retreat from the castle. The entrance hall was in pitch darkness, sundown having taken place long before her arrival in the grounds. As Jefferson had done she made her way towards the great hall expecting Rumple to be spinning. But the great hall was now empty. There was no sound save for her feet treading on something. Looking down she could make out the shapes of broken glass and antiques littering the floor. Surmising Rumplestiltskin's actions, she paused to think. _Well, he does so love poetic justice. Perhaps the dungeons...? _Belle mused amidst the carnage. Picking her way out of the remnants of the great hall she made her way to her dungeons. It was just as dark as always but there was a torch burning in her cell. The only sign of life she had seen in the whole of the castle. She pulled the door open and the smell hit her. Alcohol. Judging by the discarded bottles surrounding the inert body curled up on the floor, a rather large quantity of alcohol. Belle looked down at Rumple. Yes, apart from her the torch was most definitely the only sign of life in the Dark Castle.

Being the Dark One had some advantages. In Belle's opinion the ability to look good in leather being one. The owning of dungeons without looking like a demented madman being another. A third would be an enormous tolerance for alcohol. Belle had only seen Rumple drunk once. He'd been out with Jefferson. Jefferson went home but seeing as he did not live far from their chosen tavern for the night it was no mean feat for him to arrive home in one piece. Rumple decided to take the lazy way. He'd transported himself but in his inebriated state hadn't managed the finer points of the magic. He'd crash landed into the dying embers of the fire in the great hall, sent Belle and the sofa on which she was reclining sprawling backwards, and most importantly to him singed his favourite dragon hide coat. He'd regretted that in the morning. He later regretted Belle's tongue lashing as it aided and abetted his already tremendous headache, and she went out of her way to be as loud as possible that whole day.

Belle sat on the edge of the pallet that had, in the beginning, been her bed, and nudged Rumple with her foot. He made a noise halfway between a moan and a growl. She nudged again and found herself the subject of a one eyed dubious glare.

Rumple squinted up at Belle through a haze of whisky. He attempted to move into a more decorous sitting position but the floor was not yet ready to relinquish its hold on him, so he contented himself with lying there, waiting patiently for the floor to come to its senses and at least stop spinning. Despite herself Belle smiled at him. The look on his face attested to his anger abating a long while ago.

"Belle?" Croaked Rumple.

"I leave you for two weeks and this is what you do?" Belle gestured with a hand at the signs of destruction and myriad bottles of alcohol. "I'm not cleaning this up".

"Why did you come back?" Rumple continued to squint through one eye. He was a little worried that should he open the other eye the wonderful vision in front of him would evaporate.

"I promised you forever. It may have escaped your attention that in that, you also promised me forever. Well, I haven't had forever from you. You know as well as I do that it was true loves kiss. It was working. Even if I had been 'in league' with The Queen, I couldn't have faked the evidence of true love. You owe me an explanation Rumple and I'm not leaving this time without it."

The floor mercifully began to slow down and gave up its iron grip on Rumple. He staggered to his feet and risked opening the other eye. The beautiful but undeniably angry vision in front of him did not fade. "Perhaps some tea is in order...?" Rumple ventured.

"Stay out of my kitchen then. You've done enough damage here. I assume you still have food in your larder?"

Rumple nodded his assent. He made his way slowly to the door of the cell and walked up the stairs, pausing to make sure Belle was still there and following.

On returning to the great hall, Rumple was able to use his magic to repair the damage he'd caused. Magic always came with a price and he knew he would pay it later. Hopefully this would just take the shape of a rip in one of his pairs of leather trousers, or one of his potions falling flat and failing to produce the desired result. Something innocuous like that he could handle. He waited patiently in the great hall, listening to the muffled sounds of Belle moving in the kitchen. Gods, even through the haze of a hangover this was music to his ears. If only the throbbing in his brain could beat in time.


	8. Chapter 8

_Baby, I'm amazed at the way  
You love me all the time  
And maybe I'm afraid of the way  
I love you_

*Wings – Maybe I'm Amazed

_**Authors note; Don't hate me. Wings weren't that bad. In fact I bet you're humming this tune right now, aren't you...?**_

Belle sat the tea in front of him along with some bread and soup she'd made before he'd thrown her out and took the seat next to him. A happy consequence of living in an enchanted castle was that food cooked in said castle did not turn and Rumplestiltskin's stomach growled in anticipation.

Rumplestiltskin, The Dark One, the most feared being in all the Kingdoms, cleared his throat. He was about to bare his soul to someone for the first time in a very long time, not that he ever really had before, and he was scared. He wanted nothing more than to flee to his workrooms, his sanctuary from this siren, but he had to do this. Rumplestiltskin the man had to tell her everything and take the chance that she would still want him. Rumplestiltskin the Dark One raged deep inside against the potential loss of control.

"So you remember my mentioning my son, and that I lost him many years ago?" Rumple asked, his voice shakier than he would like. Belle nodded.

"What I failed to mention is that this was my fault. My son, Bae, was scared that I was using my power to gain revenge against slights against me so long ago they were all but forgotten except by me. He was worried that instead of using my powers to simply better our lives as I had originally planned, I was letting it destroy me, and in turn I would lose control and let it destroy us, our lives. Bae was right. He'd been searching for a way to reach a land without magic so that we could go there. I would be free of my curse and my former reputation as a coward. And he found a way. But when the time came I couldn't go through with it. Ever the coward I let go of his hand. And so he fell through the portal alone. I've been searching for a way to find him since". Rumple had been looking away but chanced a glance at Belle, expecting to see disgust at the evidence of his cowardice. But there was none evident on her face. She reached across and took his hand, and he continued.

"I had always been a coward. I injured myself to leave the first ogre wars. I refused to fight for my wife and I could not fight for my son".

"You said you'd lost your wife" Belle asked softly. There was no pity on her face, just understanding. "What happened".

"Ours was an arranged marriage. There was no love between us although we got along for the most part, and on the birth of our son things seemed to get a little better. I thought for a while that maybe, even after the loveless start, love could grow. But then the ogre wars came. I tried to prove my worth as a soldier, as a brave man, but I could not. Milah was ashamed at being shackled to the town coward. I could not provide the life she wanted and I could not be the man she wanted. She spent more and more time at the town tavern to escape the life that my cowardice had provided for her, and in time met with a pirate who offered her adventure, and the sort of love she craved that she couldn't find with me. A lady from our village came to warn me that Milah was leaving with the pirate one evening. I went to the docks to beg her return. The pirate challenged me to fight for her and threw me a sword. I would not fight. Instead I fled, having to tell our son that she had left us because she couldn't bear her life with me. Some years later as the Dark One I came across him again. I fought that duel, but I did not kill him. He lost his hand though in recompense." Rumple took a sip of the tea, the painful memories clouding his eyes.

"What happened to Milah?" Belle asked. Rumple took a deep breath, "She had died at sea by that time and been buried at sea. I had not seen her since she left with him. So not only did I had to tell Bae his mother had left us, had been so ashamed of me that she had left him, but that she had also died without the chance for him to see her again." Rumple felt like choking on this lie but he couldn't tell Belle that he had killed his wife himself; that he had ripped out her heart with glee and watched the pirate suffer through her death. He knew she would leave him again then. After all, if he can kill a woman who he did not love he could easily kill his one true love. There were some secrets he could never tell.

"My power grew over the years, and I took an apprentice. Someone in whom I could see a flicker of darkness like mine. It amused me to see that grow. But her power also grew and it now nearly equals mine. She would like nothing more than to bring about my death. At this she could take the power of the Dark One."

Belle's eyes widened in understanding; "This would be the Queen that you talked of, that you thought I was in league with?" Rumple nodded. He felt ashamed. Ashamed that he was still keeping back the whole truth from his Belle, ashamed that he could not trust her enough to share everything with her, and ashamed that he could ever think she would join ranks with the Queen against her.

"Regina uses her mirrors to communicate with people, and to spy on people. We have an uneasy truce most of the time but I don't doubt that should an opportune moment arise she would use it to her advantage. I think you were that opportune moment. I should not have doubted you." Rumple said as Belle edged her chair closer to him and ran her hand up her arm. "I would never betray you Rumple" she said, the veracity of this making her eyes shine.

Rumple cleared his throat. "There is more though. Regina has a curse that she plans to unleash on all of us. She intends to take us all to a land without magic. I need the power of the Dark One to prevent this". Neglecting to tell Belle that he had no intention of preventing Regina using the curse, and that furthermore he was the creator of this curse, Rumple held her gaze, nearly losing himself in its cerulean depths and almost challenging her to see the lies he held on to, and the words unsaid. The beauty in front of him was still here, still wanted him.

"So where does this leave us?" Belle enquired, worrying her lower lip in that absent minded habit that set his nerves on fire. "Can we never be together?" Rumple's mischievous smile returned and he sprang up from his chair with exuberant glee. "Oh, Dearie, you forget I am the Dark One! I have spent my life planning for every eventually." He giggled at Belle's confusion; that wicked laugh that had entranced her from the start. Rumple held out his hand. Belle joined her hand in his, and in a now familiar plume of purple smoke found herself in his bedchambers.


	9. Chapter 9

_Nightfall, in thrall_

_I call her beauty to me_

_Her ebon lidded eyes_

_Excite shadows to wander through me_

_Her kiss, glittered with sleep_

_Is a thief come after dark_

_To steal away the leaden wreaths_

_From my cemetery heart_

*Cradle Of Filth – Prey

_**Authors note; Smutty filthy smut finally ensues. Hopefully it's good. Either that or it should be entered in the "Bad Sex In Fiction Awards 2014". **_

Belle blinked as the purple haze clouding her vision dissipated. She had never been in his bedchambers before; this and his workrooms were his private domain, such were the kitchens and her bedchambers to her. His chambers were softly lit with candles. It was as she had imagined, but the bed was bigger and there were no mirrors. Perhaps another bonus to the Dark One's curse was the ability to look good innately without checking one's reflection in the mirror. His chambers were decorated tastefully. She knew he was a man of taste but had imagined he would want to surround himself with the fruits of his deals. There were no extraneous objects. Everything appeared to have a use. She found her feet while the magic swirled away, and Rumple let her go. He walked to a locked cupboard which opened at a twist of his hand. He reached in and withdrew a small stoppered bottle encasing a sparkling red liquid. He turned to meet Belle's steady gaze, now fixed on him with open desire. "This, Dearie, was one of my earlier experiments. I created it as I held hope in the early days that I could find love again, that Bae would have a mother and I could have a family. The reputation I carefully crafted around myself made that hope redundant, until now. This will negate the effects of true love's kiss. The curse will remain unbroken." Rumple removed the stopper and drank the contents of the bottle down. His skin showing at the top of his unbuttoned shirt shimmered in the candlelight as he moved, and Belle's desire to know whether all of him glittered in that way was rekindled. She closed the distance between them, and kissed him. Rumple hesitated at first but as the curse held he deepened the kiss, cupping her face between his hands. Belle slid her hands around the back of his neck and tangled her fingers in the soft hair. He moaned at her touch, it had been so long since he had felt this tenderness from a woman, if he ever really had.

He snaked his hands down to her chest, to savour the porcelain skin beneath his fingertips, and his desire, already evident, began to strain against his pants. He rubbed against her, and Belle caught his hands. Moving them towards her bodice he understood what she wanted and began to loosen the ties. As her dress fell away from her he stepped back, and his breath hitched in his throat. Rumple moved his attention towards her skirts, to touch all of her skin. His beauty, bared to him, was a Goddess in his eyes. Rumplestiltskin trailed kisses down her neck; lips that once spat venomous words now dedicated to the worship of this Aphrodite incarnate.

He followed her skirts down to the floor and knelt in front of her. Holding her close he circled kisses around her belly and looked up at her flushed face. He bent his face forward and ran his tongue down towards her core between her legs, desperate for a taste of her. He'd fantasised about this so often. Belle moaned at his ministrations and held him close, twining her fingers into his soft curls. She felt an intense heat growing inside her that felt like

It would burst from her. Rumplestiltskin was amazed at how wet she was for him as he plundered his own personal heaven. She tasted divine and her scent was intoxicating. Slowly, he raised his kisses back upwards, enjoying how she mewled at the loss of his touch. "You're beautiful" he breathed as he stood up to face her again. Nuzzling her neck he whispered "I love you Belle". Belle caught his face between her hands and held it steady as she said the words he knew he didn't deserve to hear. "I love you too Rumple".

She slowly let her hands fall from his face, and staring into his eyes tugged at his shirt, loosening it from his pants and easing it back off his shoulders and down his arms. His sinewy, lean body glistened. Shuddering with pleasure, Rumple ran his fingers over her breasts. Her nipples hardened at his expert touch and aching for more she guided him towards the bed, working on the laces of his pants. Rumple let himself be pushed back on the bed. Belle lay beside him, and the dreams he'd had of her delicate fingers stroking his hard cock became a reality. "If you carry on with that I'm not going to be able to control myself" he breathed, his voice hoarse with desire. "Well maybe that's what I'm hoping for, Rumple. You've kept me waiting long enough" Belle teased. Running his hands down her smooth skin he softly slipped his hands between her thighs. His Belle was so wet for him, only for him, and desire pounded in his head. She gasped as he slowly slid a finger inside her and rubbed his thumb against her clit. He slid another finger in her and curled them. The tension building inside her reached a crescendo and she came, turning to jelly in his arms. As the stars swimming in her vision cleared, the Dark One licked his fingers, and then kissed her. She could taste herself on him, and mixed with the scent of his body this was an intoxicating mix.

"Rumple..." Belle pleaded. Understanding what she wanted, and transfixed by the lust in her eyes he moved in between her legs and slowly pushed into her. She was so tight around him as he buried himself in her and hit that spot that made her scream his name whilst she convulsed around him that his control fled, and he joined her in ecstasy.

Belle relaxed and stretched. This time it was no illusion. She was in the Dark One's bedchambers. She had appeased her beast, and smiled as dawn broke. Opening her eyes to meet the gaze of her Rumple, there was no time for her to articulate to him the mist that was sweeping through the grounds, enveloping the castle and pouring into the bedchambers through the balcony behind him.

Ms Mills, the town mayor, blinked as her alarm clock shrieked the ungodly hour that she was accustomed to waking up to. Blindly sweeping the contents of her bedside table in search of the off button for the offending noise, she became aware of a niggling thought at the back of her mind. Opening her eyes and finding that damn off button, she silenced the noise and paused to concentrate. _What is bothering me this early in the morning_ she wondered. A bad dream perhaps? No, it was more than that. Sitting up and yawning widely she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Washing her face, she glanced up at the mirror to see her reflection. The memories came flooding back, nearly flooring her in their intensity. Steadying herself against the wall, the Evil Queen laughed as both her real memories and curse identity merged. She had done it


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note; Yes, the story continues...**

28 years later

Isobella woke up as the light streamed into her room. Her eyes automatically strayed to the other side of the bed as they always did. She could never break the habit, despite her and her husband not sharing the same bed for as long as she could remember. She must have loved him at some point, after all she agreed to marry him, and the first couple of years of married life had not diminished their passion, but they had drifted apart after that although she could not quite pin down why. _Maybe it was never love, whatever it was just disappeared with the loss of lust_ she thought melodramatically, wishing she was one of the heroines in one of the books she was reading. Sighing she got out of bed, padding towards her bedroom door to make her way to the kitchen. Pausing by her husband's bedroom, she noticed that it was empty. No doubt yet again he'd arisen early and left to attend some legal meeting or another. As always. Nothing changed. Or if not a meeting he'd be at his pet project. His shop. Retrieving her diary she checked her schedule for the day. Oh yes, the spa with Madam Mayor. _Ugh_, Isobella thought as she walked down the stairs. Not that she disliked the mayor particularly. She just couldn't figure out why she was friends with this woman, other than it suited her husband's business interests. Opening the fridge she peered inside, and drew out some ingredients for her breakfast. The whole town had thought it was a shotgun wedding, her father included, but as the months passed and no child was evident everyone had to accept it was true love. _Where's it all gone_ she thought sadly, twirling her wedding band around on her finger. She'd begun to feel that he regarded her as little more than another of his acquisitions, another possession to be dusted off and paraded when necessary, but otherwise left to gather dust and lie forgotten. Mulling over for the umpteenth time leaving her husband she put the breakfast items back in the fridge. _Habit_ she thought. _Just habit. I do the same thing every day. _Isobella walked back up the stairs to the bathroom. Perhaps today she could break the habit of a lifetime. _Maybe today_ she mused, as she switched the shower on.

Regina was rattled today. Her son's birth mother had arrived in town and was making waves. Worse than that, Henry wanted to spend all his time with this woman. Regina was losing Henry, and the arrival of his birth mother was causing ripples in the fabric of the curse. Regina could feel the disturbances. If Ms Swan stayed much longer Regina risked the curse being broken. _Well for the time being at least I can amuse myself with the little princess's unhappy life, _Regina consoled herself. _Henry will lose interest in this woman. His attention span is a little limited..._Regina's first act in this new world had been to ask Mr Gold to procure her a child. In the last world he was the man who could get anything, and this had translated well into this world. Unconditional love, that was all she wanted after it had been ripped away by her mother after the tutelage of the Dark One. How fitting he should be the one to acquire that for her now that he was denied this. Her son. Only there was something...different...about him. He'd always sensed that something wasn't quite right, and that Regina was the centre of that. And yes, he loved his mother very much, but there was always something there, a slight distrust that marred their relationship.

"Isobella dear, always a pleasure. How are you this morning" Regina asked as they rendezvoused outside the spa. Air kisses accomplished Isobella replied "Always the same. Can't complain really". Regina did her best to look sympathetic whilst her lips curled up in a predatory smile. "Still unhappy dear? I'm sure things will get better". Isobella looked sharply at Regina, tired of the stale advice the mayor always offered. "No Regina, they don't. That's the problem. Nothing ever changes". Regina's advice was always the same. Stay with your husband. Things will improve. Every marriage has its ups and downs. By this point Isobella had heard nearly every platitude in existence. Determination making its appearance known Isobella announced with finality "No. I'm leaving him. Tonight".

Regina stiffened. She had enjoyed the last few years of watching the Dark One and his pet princess living in misery together. She looked forward to her weekly visits with Isobella, hearing about the unhappy marriage and enjoying the benefits of the expensive spa treatments at Isobella's expense. "Well, you don't want to do anything rash" she offered, unnerved by Isobella's sudden resolve. "Think it over. Talk to your husband" she continued, at a loss as to what to say next as she feared losing total control of the situation. _No happy ending_ she reminded herself. "Regina, I feel like I've been thinking this over for years now, and talking to my husband for years now. It's not working, and it's time for action now" Isobella said, as she yanked the door of the spa open, determining to cut ties with this woman, "and I'm done talking about this". Regina followed Isobella in, wide eyed in shock, unable to formulate a counter argument to keep the unhappy marriage intact.

Regina endured the weekly spa session with Isobella in mutual silence. _She's never gone against my advice_ Regina thought, pursing her lips and trying to avoid getting a mud based face pack rubbed in her eyes. _And she's always done what she's told. Like the perfect little princess_. Regina swatted away the hand of the beautician, impatient for the day to end. She knew she had to act very carefully now. Experience in the Enchanted Forest had taught her that when cornered Isobella would act of her own volition rather than stay in the role life had chosen for her, so there was no point in advising her to stay with her husband now. No, she'd have to put pressure on Ms Swan to leave. Make things unpleasant for her. _Custody _she thought, smiling to herself. Oh, she'd never act on it. Not yet anyway. But Emma Swan wouldn't know that. Yes, that might be enough. Let a rumour spread that she was looking into custody against Emma Swan for Henry. Ms Swan would leave; she'd know she stood no chance with her criminal record. Henry would be disappointed that Emma Swan would leave on the basis of a rumour, that she wouldn't even stay to fight for him, but he'd get over it._ Emma Swan gone = curse intact_. _No happy endings._

Mr Gold sat on a stool bent over a work bench in the back of his shop, illuminated by a solitary light immediately overhead, casting the rest of the back room into darkness. He'd been up since very early that morning; well, he'd been up early every morning for as long as he could remember now. There was nothing for him at home any more so his time was spent between his legal practice and the shop. Truth be told he was getting bored with the legal practice now. So little happened in this town. Most of his time was spent extricating the diner's waitress Ruby Lucas from whatever trouble she had gotten herself into. Mostly public disturbances due to her irascible temper. He now left most of what came in to his associates whilst he worked in his shop. Being a pawn broker might not be glamorous work but he held most of the town in thrall through this business. Everyone wanted to make some sort of unpalatable deal with the pawn broker. Selling priceless jewellery to fund their sordid habits; gambling, alcoholism, prostitution. You name it, everyone in Storybrooke had their vice that they had to pay for. Gold knew their secrets and they feared him for this. He also happened to own most of the property in Storybrooke as well so anyone that didn't have some kind of vice to budget for was still called upon to pay rent to Mr Gold. He rather enjoyed having the residents of Storybrooke terrified of him. He often mused he had enough skeletons in his own closet that he did not want to be revealed, so with the town being too busy with fearing him they were less likely to pry into his private business. Mr Gold smiled to himself as he carefully replaced a gemstone into an antique necklace. It was almost therapeutic, and this provided him with a sense of inner peace, something he hadn't felt since...well for such a long time. He'd thought he had found it once, but like everything else in his life this had tarnished and was now nothing but a bitter reminder of his failure at life.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note; Ooooh thanks for the continuing nice reviews guys, but CocoRocks I'm afraid to say Rumple has been a very naughty Dark One so he doesn't get an easy time of things with Emma's presence...**

* * *

"Ok, see you later kiddo" Emma called after the retreating back of Henry as he wandered back to the Mayoral Mansion. She shivered a little and pulled her leather jacket around her tightly whilst walking away, mulling over what Henry had told her. Henry had overheard Regina earlier on the phone. He hadn't heard much but it involved taking out an order against Emma, preventing her from seeing Henry. She knew enough of Regina to know this was a very real possibility, Regina viewed Emma as a threat. Emma suppressed a sigh of disappointment. She'd seen a vulnerability in Regina where Henry was concerned, a vulnerability not unlike her own given her life's experiences, and had thought that perhaps, in another time and another place, this could have made them friends. She knew Regina had a heart, a fact which so far had eluded the townsfolk. But Regina had gone out of her way to make any friendship between the two of them impossible. Emma toyed with the idea of asking Regina directly whether she was planning any custody issue over Henry, but swiftly discarded that thought, deciding she would be unlikely to get a straight answer from Regina. However, there was someone else who might help. Mr Gold. The town's resident evil. Emma knew that the town feared and reviled him, but she didn't share in that. She wasn't scared of him, more...just wary, and at present she had not given him a reason to dislike her. As the town lawyer he would also know whether Regina was planning anything against her. She knew enough about him to know that he disliked Regina intensely, and hoped this would be enough to gain assistance from him.

"Gold?! You here?!" a voice called out as the door chimed on opening. "Well it is my shop Dearie" Mr Gold muttered under his breath. Appearing from behind the curtain separating the shop from his workrooms at the back, he greeted Emma Swan. "How can I be of assistance, Ms Swan?" he enquired. "I need advice". Mr Gold raised his eyebrow in question to her statement. "I'm concerned that Regina is looking into legal action preventing me from seeing Henry" Emma poured out. Gold chucked softly. "Regina's bark is worse than her bite, Ms Swan. Legal action would not be in her best interests. It would impact negatively on Henry and despite what you may think of her, she will not wish to upset Henry. I doubt that you have anything to worry about. Besides, she has not approached either me or any of my associates for legal advice." Mr Gold was happy to offer this advice to Ms Swan. She discomfited Regina, and Mr Gold enjoyed seeing Regina discomfited very much. The door chimed again, and the world's clumsiest Casanova stepped in. David Nolan. Married and yet carrying on a very well known highly secret affair with the town's school teacher Mary Margaret Blanchard, the world's most unlikeliest harlot. Indeed, everyone knew about it, with the exception of Madam Mayor, and David's wife Kathryn. Emma thanked Gold and left. She had no wish to enter into conversation with David Nolan at present. She was good friends with Mary Margaret, who was very upset; no doubt David was the root cause. "Mr Nolan, how can I help?" enquired Mr Gold, watching David peruse the items on display undoubtedly aiming to purchase one as an apology, either to his wife or mistress, or maybe both. Gold very much approved of expensive apologies. Expensive apologies kept him in Armani suits. Hearing a loud aggrieved yelp from by the door he looked over to see Emma Swan clutching at her toe having stubbed it against some dirty chest that had been left by the wall. "Any damages will be charged directly to you Ms Swan" he called after her jovially, her curses disappearing into the ether. A light curiosity surrounding the origins of the chest dissipated as David Nolan drew Mr Gold's attention towards a necklace with an intricate snowflake pendant.

Mr Gold's bonhomie was short lived however. He was due for a meeting with Madam Mayor, and although he knew the meeting would go his way it was nonetheless a distasteful necessity. Sighing, he completed the sale of the very pretty and expensive trinket to Mr Nolan, and locked his shop up. Returning to the backroom he opened a draw and reached for his car keys, then thinking again left them in the drawer. His leg hurt today and he didn't want the muscles seizing or cramping whilst driving. He reached for his cane to walk to the Mayor's offices. It wasn't a long walk and from there he could get to his offices, and from there either walk back to his shop for his car or take a cab. He momentarily recalled soft tender hands rubbing out the knots in the muscles on his leg but dismissed this thought. Thinking of his regrets was to no benefit to him at all; he could not change things now.

"Really, Dearie?" Gold drawled. He was bored but reined in his tedium, observing the mayor through calculating eyes "What's in it for you. I mean, what's really in it?" he asked. Regina was up to something. It was very easy to tell when she was up to something. There were three dead giveaways. One; she was awake. Two; her lips were moving. Three; her cleavage would be out in force. Given that this was her general modus operandi it was safe to assume she was always up to something.

Regina smiled her most innocent smile, which despite her best efforts still had the appearance of a serpent paying undue attention to an apple tree. "Mr Gold, I assure you I have no ulterior motive. The library building is a drain on town funds. It's lying empty as we cannot find anyone who wants to run it. You know that already. I simply propose that the town offer's you the library in exchange for the land you own by the school. Really, this works in your favour. You've already expressed an interest in the library, and we would like to expand the school site". Regina spread her hands out in a gesture of openness and looked at Mr Gold appreciatively whilst he perused the paperwork she had drafted out for the exchange. She had not seen the attraction in Rumplestiltskin that was so obvious to Belle, but as Mr Gold, well that was another matter. His exquisitely tailored suits always impeccable, the hair, the glint in his eyes, his scent, the cane. She allowed herself a brief speculation as to whether he really was as kinky as the town rumours suggested. The things he could do with that cane...? _Kinky with everyone but his Belle_ she thought triumphantly. For all Regina knew he probably had a whole harem dedicated to his every whim, and she allowed herself a moments thought about dedicating herself to his every whim. Regina returned to reality as Mr Gold abruptly agreed, as eager as her to terminate their meeting. "I'll have the contracts drawn up this afternoon, and I would like it signed and returned to me without delay, please" he stated. Regina reluctantly agreed, having no choice due to the addendum that Rumplestiltskin had added to the curse that she would have to agree to whatever he asked, as long as he said please. Mr Gold was always polite to an extreme. Gold was pleased with himself. He'd wanted the land the library sat on for a while now, and his disinterest and refusal to sell her the land by the school had played off. He still didn't know what he would do with the library and its surrounding land, but he had time to think on it now that he owned it.

Picking up his briefcase from Regina's office Mr Gold intended to return to his offices to draw up the divorce papers. He'd put this off for many years but something was different today. He was no longer happy in his marriage and it was obvious his wife shared his lack of enthusiasm. He hadn't spent any time ruminating on the breakdown of his marriage, but it was fairly obvious all the same. He was so much older than her. She must have realised by now she could have anyone in the town and was regretting their marriage. They'd both stopped trying at some point but he'd kept the marriage going for appearance's sake. But whose appearance? Certainly not Isobella's. Storybrooke seemed to regard her as some kind of Stockholm Syndrome victim, although he'd never kept her locked away, and regarded him as the archetypical Evildoer. The harbinger of doom, and excessive rents. Certainly no one in Storybrooke regarded him as having a positive appearance to uphold. Nevertheless he was weary of the whole charade now. The least he could do for Isobella was let her go.

Something was troubling him though. He had an urge to stop by his shop, but couldn't pin down why. _Of course, that chest_ he remembered. Emma Swan had tripped over it whilst leaving his shop earlier. _And I still can't remember where it came from. Must have been there for a long while then_. Leaning on his cane, he gave way to his impulse to investigate the contents of the chest. Arriving at his shop after a leisurely walk, he opened and re-locked the door, and walked to the backroom of his shop. Sitting on the pallet he kept there for when he couldn't face the emptiness of his marriage, he eased the chest out from underneath, having manoeuvred the chest with some difficulty there earlier on. The chest contained items wrapped securely in packing paper. He unwrapped the first and largest item. _A teapot? Not particularly aesthetically appealing or valuable_ he thought, speculating that this was why the chest had faded from his memory. He picked up another piece and unwrapped it. Still holding it in the packing paper he observed a cup. Chipped at the rim. He held the cup with his other hand to shake off the residual packing paper. With his bare hand touching the cup he jolted as the Dark One's curse ripped through the memories of Mr Gold, reasserting itself with unquestionable dominance. He took immediate stock of his situation. Town lawyer; position of power. Excellent. Pawnbroker; wealthy and held most of the town in his palm. Excellent. Looking for his son. Oh, and there was the little matter of his unhappy marriage to Belle.

Gold leapt up with the teacup in his hand and hurried out of the back of the shop where he had parked that morning. Flooring the accelerator his black Cadillac sped towards his salmon coloured house, towards his Belle. He remembered everything, and he could repair this fractured rut they were in. The drive home seemed interminably long but he reached his house and opened the door with trepidation. Greeting him at the foot of the staircase, resting on the banister, was a note from his wife. Three simple words written at the top. _I'm leaving you. _Those accursed words etched on his brain. Gold read through the rest of the note. It said nothing of consequence, bar telling him that she was staying at the B & B over Granny's diner.

As erudite as he was, all his years of experience and knowledge now counted for nothing. He was now lost and couldn't think of further action. In shock, Gold gravitated towards the basement almost on instinct. He'd never really gone down to the basement, using it as a storage area for things he couldn't store in the shop. Walking down the stairs he approached the spinning wheel he now knew to be his and sat down, placing the teacup on a shelf in front of him. He had plans to make.

Time moved forward as Emma Swan moved through the town


	12. Chapter 12

Isobella sat at the diner savouring an iced tea, her third one in the last hour. She'd not been in Granny's Diner very often, it was outside her social sphere, but she had met the scantily clad waitress Ruby at her husband's offices once, and had struck up an unlikely acquaintance that was now turning into friendship. Truthfully she felt she had nowhere else to go, and Ruby was turning out to be a better friend than Regina. She listened, rather than offering constant unwanted advice. "So you finally did it, huh?" Ruby smiled at the life that was starting to shine on Isobella's face, recalling their first meeting and the despondency that showed through Isobella's features. "Yup". Isobella replied, uncharacteristically laconic. It wasn't that she regretted her decision, but this was so final. _Still, it's for the best_, she reminded herself. "Well, you know you can stay here for as long as you want. Granny won't mind. Oh, and we're having a girl's night tonight. Me, Emma, Mary Margaret. You should join us. It'll be fun. Take your mind off things". Isobella had done nothing but think since leaving. Gold wasn't a bad husband by any stretch of the imagination. Just distant. It's just that she felt stifled. Like her life wasn't her own. It was planned out for her. _Wake up. Alone. Husband already gone out, check diary. Breakfast / lunch with Regina. Evening charity event / town social event with husband & play dutiful wife or dinner alone whilst husband works late at office. Go to bed. Alone. _She didn't mind routine as such, but was this really the routine life she wanted for herself? Almost like she was trapped in the life of a middle aged woman who had long ago given up on life. Leaving her husband made her feel like her life was returning.

Of course, her father Maurice Epine, owner of the local paper, would not be happy. He just wanted her to be married. It was the respectable thing for her to do. Isobella had no doubts that he would put aside his misgivings shortly though and begin trying to set her up with one of his protégés. Prime suspect number one would be her father's favourite. Gaston; Gareth Ashton. Former Quarterback for their college's football team. He was an arrogant, conceited boy and these traits had only increased over the years. He'd started shortening his name to 'Gaston' and removing the 'h' in a vain effort to sound more...exotic, more interesting. He was harmless enough but prior to Isobella's marriage had been the bane of her existence due to the fact that Maurice was always trying to engineer a romance between her and Gaston. A romance that would never go anywhere. Gaston was just a boy, and for all his faults her husband was a man. Maurice had decided that Isobella should take a career in journalism when she left school. It wasn't so bad; she enjoyed writing after all, but the constant attempts to set her up had worn her down. In a fit of rebellion, and avarice as Gold was offering higher wages, she'd left and taken a weekend and evening job in Mr Gold's shop as he had advertised for a shop assistant. Everyone was surprised at this, he was the town monster, but she'd never been afraid of him, despite his reputation. And then she fell in love, they fell in love. She'd give anything to feel that thrill again.

"You coming?" Ruby called to Isobella. It was her break, and she was going to source out some 'girl night friendly' clothing for Isobella. Isobella had only taken what she could carry that night, just a few changes of clothes. She knew she could rely on her husband not to take any revenge on the remainder of her belongings. Assuming he noticed that she was gone.

As Isobella ascended the stairs to the entrance to the B & B through the back of the diner, Mr Gold walked in through the entrance and approached the eponymous Granny. "Isobella is staying at the B& B, I understand" he stated. Granny nodded, unwilling to say anything to enhance his dissatisfaction with his life and hence increase her rent. "Would you mind passing this to her please". He asked, and gave her a plain box. "Of course Mr Gold. Was there anything else you wanted" Granny asked curtly. She didn't like to sound impolite but wanted him out of her diner. He was bad for business. Luckily the feeling was mutual and he had no desire to spend any more time than was strictly necessary in the diner. Whilst Mr Gold was used to being scrutinised and labelled by the Storybrooke community at large he had no wish to parade around town needlessly. "That will be all, thank you" he scowled, leaving her in peace with the small box. She eyed it suspiciously whilst grimacing. Whatever was in there she had no desire to find out. With Gold's warped mind it could be anything in there.

Girl's night in full swing, and Isobella's separation from Gold thoroughly dissected and examined, they found another subject to discuss. "C'mon Mary Margaret! Dish the dirt. We wanna hear all the details!" Mary Margaret Blanchard blushed. She had told her friends about her relationship with David Nolan but felt so uncomfortable discussing it. "There's nothing to tell, really" She insisted. "He was going to tell Kathryn, but it just wasn't the right time" Mary Margaret continued. "When is it ever going to be the right time?" Ruby asked, helping herself to another slice of pizza and glass of rose. "When Regina leaves town" Emma shot in. "Do you really think Regina cares that much? It's nothing to do with her. She'll offer Kathryn platitudes and then get back to enjoying making everyone else miserable!" Ruby replied, knocking back nearly half the glass of rose. "Yes, and her target for the day would be me. I really don't know why she hates me so much. I must have really hurt her in a previous life". Mary Margaret offered ruefully as she eyed the last slice of pepperoni and ham longingly, making her play for it before Ruby could interject. "No one is that bad" insisted Emma. "Regina is" Isobella advised boldly, feeling traitorous but fully justified. "She has spent the last...I don't know how long...insisting I stay in an unhappy marriage. There was nothing in it for her, but no matter how much I made it clear I wanted to leave, she insisted I stay. And the worst thing is I listened, and I don't know why I listened to her. I knew what I wanted but I did what Regina wanted instead. Must have been mad..." Isobella took another sip of rose. She wasn't a big drinker usually but, well, she'd made some seismic changes to her life so why not include this one? _Girls night isn't so bad_ she thought hazily as the alcohol made its mark on her, glad that the focus was on someone else's problems. _I like discussing other people's love lives _she realised as her head leaned back on the pillow and her eyes closed, letting the quiet tones of the movie playing on Ruby's TV and the talk of the girls fade out gently. "She's out cold!" Ruby laughed, glancing at her friend's head falling back and the glass of rose she had been holding fall beside her. "Aw, throw this over her_" _Mary Margaret handed Ruby a throw off the sofa, and Emma got another bottle of wine.

_She stood at the door. The room before her sat in darkness but as she walked in a fire at the far end of the room sprung into life, casting shadows to dance by the walls. She could feel a hot breath in the darkness ghosting against her throat before it receded. A voice then spoke from the gloom. 'It's forever, dearie!' Belle could not see who spoke, save for a pair of eyes gleaming from the darkness. 'I agreed to that' Belle replied softly, but she didn't know why. She didn't understand what the voice was referring to. 'Where am I?' she asked. 'How you've forgotten your home so quickly Dearie' the voice replied sharply. 'You who swore you were happy here. All lies' the voice spat out spitefully. Belle stood her ground, refusing to respond to the accusation in his words. 'Who are you?' she asked, unable to move any further into the room. The voice chuckled mirthlessly. 'You know me dearie. You know my name. You knew it so well you screamed it out once. I'll make you scream my name again' the voice replied, a figure shrouded in the darkness leaning forward. She could now make out fingers. Long, thin fingers. She inexplicably wanted those fingers over her, and inside her. 'I don't know who you are' Belle insisted. 'Say my name' the voice spat back. 'Say it! Say it! SAY IT!'_


	13. Chapter 13

"And how did the dream make you feel?" Doctor Hopper asked. Isobella shook her head. "A little scared. No, not scared, but ... oh I don't know. I felt that I do know him, that if I could see his face and remember his name I'd understand everything" Isobella said. "Understand what?" Asked Dr Hopper. "That's the million dollar question Doctor. I really don't know". The bespectacled Doctor waited for Isobella to continue. "What do you think I should do?" Isobella asked. "The only person who can answer that is you, Isobella. You have the answers, you just have to ask the right questions" Dr Hopper advised. "How often have you had these dreams?" Hopper continued, making further notes. "Every night since I moved out. It's always the same. This...figure, telling me to remember him. Uttering cryptic sentences that I know the meaning of, without knowing the meaning of" Isobella returned to her new favourite habit of twirling her wedding ring around her finger. It had replaced her habit of worrying her lower lip. Isobella couldn't tell him that she enjoyed those dreams, that they felt more real to her than reality itself, and that she really, really looked forward to the thrill of the night to be in the presence of the only thing in her life that gave her any excitement. _He'd section me for sure. I'd section me!_ she thought despondently. She'd confessed all of that to Ruby. Ruby thought that she was just sexually frustrated, but that was Ruby's opinion about everyone.

Dr Hopper changed direction with his questions, Isobella's dreams could wait for now. She was still sleeping well, and although the dreams were unsettling they were not having any adverse effect on her. "And how do you feel about ending your marriage?" He asked. Isobella thought for a moment. "It's not over, just...on hiatus for now, I guess. I need a break from us. I need time to decide whether I want to work on our marriage, whether I still have that left in me and whether I want him to fight for it. I think he would, but ..." Isobella trailed off, unsure of what she was saying and what she wanted. She felt comfortable in talking to Dr Hopper. At the outset she'd made it clear to him she did not want advice; the purpose of her sessions were for her to talk and for someone to just listen and maybe help her understand what she wanted out of life. Isobella continued uncertainly "I want a new life. I want adventure! I really don't think that's compatible with my marriage"

"Have you talked to your husband?" Dr Hopper asked. "Not since I moved out. You know I've tried talking to him before but he never listened. There was always another council meeting, court hearing, important auctions to attend" Isobella replied, twirling her wedding band around her finger again. Gold had been so distant for as long as she could remember and Isobella's heart cracked a little more at the remembrance of all the times he'd abandoned her alone in the house, dismissing her attempts to talk to him in favour of stalking his tenants for rent money, or skulking in the shadows of his shop. Anything to avoid her.

"Do you think he would be willing to talk to you now? It may be that his reluctance to discuss matters with you was because he felt it was not a serious problem" Dr Hopper suggested cautiously. He was reluctant to appear as if he was urging her into a course of action she was not ready for. From their previous discussions he was aware that for most of her life people had been making decisions for her and did not want her to feel that he was doing the same as he knew she would cancel their sessions. Dr Hopper genuinely wanted the best outcomes for his patients, and he knew that their sessions were helping Isobella. They gave her an impartial space to air her thoughts.

"I don't know. Maybe...maybe me moving out was what was needed, a catalyst of sorts" Isobella replied. "But he hasn't contacted me; hell I'm not even sure if he's noticed I've gone!" Isobella snorted uncharacteristically. "I'm not sure if I'm ready yet to make the first move and contact him".

Mr Gold woke up in a sweat fisting his sheets tightly; nails digging into his palms. _Belle_ he thought, the same thought that was on his mind from the moment he woke up until the moment he went to bed, and then all through the night. He'd been dreaming of his Belle. Their night in his castle after she returned to him. He'd been thinking of her whilst at his spinning wheel and hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. He'd been reliving his false memories of Mr Gold, the false memories of their times in the back of his shop. He couldn't imagine what could have made him so indifferent to his wife; except that as Mr Gold and Isobella they had no idea of what they once meant to each other. He could make that happen again and he knew how. He had to let her go. He was dressed and ready to go to his office within half an hour. Making a call to his gopher, Mr Smee, to instruct him to pack Belle's belongings and have them ready to be removed that night, he left the house.

Mr Gold shut himself in his office. He had no magic here yet, so had to move carefully. He couldn't show that he was anyone other than Mr Gold. If Regina even just suspected he knew his identity he and Belle would be in danger. He had no doubt believing that Regina would try to use Belle against him again in her desire for revenge. No, what Regina didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Well, actually in this case what Regina didn't know would hurt her, and that made Mr Gold grin maliciously. He had the upper hand here and could turn events to his advantage. Playing the role of attentive husband to his estranged wife would not arouse Regina's suspicions now that time was moving again; things were bound to change for the residents of Storybrooke. He could work to bring Belle out of Isobella, and once the curse was broken he would find his son. He didn't even need to worry about bringing Regina down for what she had done to them. He knew the only thing she had left in her sorry, empty life was her son Henry. Once the curse was broken and Henry realised the full extent of what The Evil Queen had done to everyone, including his birth mother, Regina would lose him too. Yes, he had no need to dirty his hands, not when there was a whole town who would happily queue up to avenge themselves on her. He could almost smell the burning pitchforks.

Looking through some paperwork on his desk relating to the planning permission on the land by the school that Regina had so recently acquired he glanced up at the clock on the wall. _Belle._ The name thrummed through his mind again like a prayer for his loneliness. He was expecting her at some point during the day. Granny dutifully would have passed on his gift to Isobella. Isobella would be furious and confront him. And then he could put his plan into action.


	14. Chapter 14

Isobella stormed into Mr Gold's office. Slamming the box down on his desk the beauty spat out "What is this?". Her brunette locks fell around her shoulders as she leant over the desk towards him in an echo of the days she had leant over him to watch him spin. Gold shrugged in amusement as her scent filled the air before him. "A box, Dearie, containing a set of keys" he replied, not bothering to keep his amusement hidden. "Don't try to buy me, Robert" Isobella hissed. Mr Gold raised his eyebrows in query. Isobella continued "This is not going to change anything. I am not coming back". Mr Gold leant back in his chair and tented his hands. Surveying her over his fingers he replied "I was simply providing you a business, with which you can support yourself, and apartments that you can use should you want to, I would imagine the B & B is not very comfortable for a long term stay" Sighing he explained his motives. Not his real motives of course. Just what Isobella would accept "You like books. You enjoy reading. Every moment of our marriage your nose has been lodged firmly in a book. I happen to own a library now which I want to open, and this necessitates the obtaining of a librarian. I thought it would suit you". Isobella glared at him. "I'm not accepting this. I don't want to be another tenant in your debt". Gold chuckled darkly. "Oh Dearie, this would be yours outright". Reaching down he opened a draw and took out some paperwork. "Here. These are our divorce papers. I haven't signed them yet and I will not unless you sign them. I recommend you read this. It clearly states the library remains yours in the event of our divorce. It is exclusively yours and I retain no rights to it on your accepting the keys and in the event of our parting ways. Think of it as a parting gift. I would like us to remain on good terms. I should make it clear that, however unlikely this may be, should we reconcile the conditions will be the same". Robert took out the contracts for the library from the same drawer; he'd already signed the library over to her. Isobella thought for a minute. Robert had always kept his promises. "Thank you. I'll be in touch" She said. Taking the divorce papers and the contract, and retrieving the keys to the library, her library, she turned to leave. She turned back to him, intending to say...something...anything not so indifferent but nothing came to mind. Mr Gold met her gaze dispassionately and watched her finally leave. He allowed a smile to ghost over his face as he reclined in his chair again. He was confident those divorce papers would remain unsigned. She still loved him. She wouldn't have taken the time to return the keys and be so angry if she hadn't. His smile broadened. Yes, his plan was working.

It was cold in the vault, so cold her breath frosted in the air. A necessity though. The hearts kept much better in the cold without magic to sustain them. They were all useless here of course. A relic of a bygone life; a harmless sentimentality but the only one she had. All useless with the exception of one. The person to whom this heart belonged was in Storybrooke; perhaps that was why it retained its power. She gently ran her fingers across the drawers lined against the wall, towards the drawer that contained this particular heart. Regina paused to listen, as she did every time she ventured down here, beneath her father's tomb. A rather pointless exercise since no one would have reason to follow her here. She was feared here, as she was before, and people kept their distance for the most part. Hearing nothing but the silence of the cemetery she returned to the task at hand and opened the drawer. Holding the faintly glowing red heart in her hand she squeezed it, and watched it contract whilst the glow brightened. Yes, the power still held here just as it had done every day for the last 28 years, and could be used to her advantage She smiled as she imagined the effect it would have on the owner; Sheriff Humbert. He could come in very useful if the situation arose.

Isobella returned to the diner in a daze. She had read the divorce papers and the contract on the way back from Gold's office and the offer was there in black and white as he had said. The library was hers. No conditions, no bargaining. It was hers outright whether they divorce or reconcile. She joined Ruby behind the counter and helped herself to a cup of coffee whilst Ruby busied herself with waffles.

"He did what?!" Ruby exclaimed, a couple of patrons swivelling their ears around in interest. It was well known that Gold, the unscrupulous lawyer, was divorcing his pretty young wife and the rumour mill had gone into overdrive. In a much quieter tone Isobella replied "Yes. I have the library. There are no clauses. It is mine to do with as I wish. There are apartments there too; I'll have my own place, whether the divorce goes ahead or not". Ruby exhaled slowly. "So I take it you'll be moving out and digging in at the library? You sure Gold doesn't have another set of keys?". Isobella scowled good naturedly at her friend. "He's not a monster. But I'll have the locks changed anyway. Not that I distrust him but there's no telling how many people have had access to make copies of these. I'll be moving in tonight, and he's arranged for my belongings to be moved with me so I don't have to do anything". Isobella took a sip of coffee. "Like he couldn't wait to be rid of me" she sighed, inexplicably disappointed. Ruby shook the divorce papers in front of Isobella. "Have you read all the terms here? They're very generous considering you went into the marriage with nothing. There's the library, the house if you want it, use of his cabin in the woods, a monthly allowance" Ruby's eyes grew wider and wider as she read the down the list. "I know, but he'll want something in return. There's always a deal, he just hasn't made this clear yet". Isobella finished her coffee. "I'll be at the library if you want me, just call and I'll come let you in". Isobella picked up the all the paperwork and the key, and left to inspect her new business premises and apartments.

The apartment was of a very generous size and could be made very comfortable. Robert was not going to remove her access to their joint account until the divorce papers were signed, so she could afford to furnish the apartment immediately, in whichever way she saw fit. Recalling the opulent furniture of Robert's salmon pink house; all mismatched due to the rarity of his finds but very expensive nonetheless, she determined to visit the local second hand furniture store. She wanted comfortable furniture to snuggle onto, not show furniture designed to intimidate those who wished to make a business deal.

Isobella smiled at the prospect of unleashing her creativity in decorating the apartment. She noted with pleasure that the kitchen was big. Much bigger than was strictly necessary. One of her hobbies, before marriage into a life of indolence, was cookery and baking. Not fitting in today's world of emancipation but she always found it a calming hobby. Robert had disliked her hobby. His wife did not need to be covered in flour and whatever other kitchen detritus was possible, not when she had to be on his arm for another meeting, or dinner, or corporate event, so after a while she'd given it up. She'd always disliked the idea of being a kept woman, and wondered bitterly how she had allowed it to happen.


	15. Chapter 15

_The bright light nearly blinded her and the cacophony was near deafening, but she was unnoticed. Dancers swirled around her to their own beat in erratic moves whilst onlookers observed the twirls of the lavish costumes and gaudy masques. Laughter from the assembled throng echoed around her threateningly, smiles from passing guests stretched to grotesque proportions. An ornate candelabra was the main feature above their heads, sinister in its sharp edges and clarity, and around them decorations glittered in ostentatious celebration. Food was plentiful and drink was flowing. But she wasn't part of this. She was just another decoration here. Her dress more elaborate than any other, everything about her was designed purely to be on show, admired from a distance, nothing more. But over the harsh discord of the musical instruments she could hear a whispering. Her name, but not her name. Belle. Over and over again. Belle. She held onto it, listening so carefully to try to find the source. It promised all her hearts desire's, everything this garish nightmare was supposed to provide her but could not. As she focussed solely on the whispering voice the scene around her faded to nothing until blackness engulfed her, bringing peace and serenity in its wake. Crepuscular, the room erupted briefly in a flash of bright light. The features of the room were thrown into sharp relief before slowly vanishing into the afterglow, revealing a figure sat before her shrouded in the darkness. 'Show yourself', Belle begged. 'You see what you want to see dearie, it's not for me to show myself' the figure whispered hoarsely. He sounded so broken and Belle's eyes filled with tears. A rhythmical sound began from where the figure was, the sound of a wheel spinning and spinning. It filled Belle with a longing, but for what? 'Tell me who you are, please' Belle pleaded in the dark. 'If I'm not to know anyone else can't I at least know you?' Another flash of light illuminated fingers. Long thin fingers, one shaking itself backwards and forwards as the voice replied playfully 'Nah, uh uh! Maybe you just want to know the monster's secrets!'. Belle's sense of déjà vu was increasing. 'You're not a monster' she said, filled with conviction at her statement. The voice chuckled before saying 'You do know me dearie' in a sing song voice. Thunder peeled in the distance and Belle's frustration at not knowing grew, tears now cascading down her face. 'I don't remember' Belle sobbed, walking forward blindly in the dark. 'I don't remember!'_

Isobella sat up in her bed, a scream about to burst from her lips. A bolt of lightning lit her room before another peel of thunder followed swiftly on. Trying to convince herself that her dream was no more than a reaction to the weather outside, she failed miserably in this enterprise. Composing herself she switched her bedside lamp on and got out of bed. These dreams were maddening. She knew this man, but couldn't know him. He wasn't human, he was like nothing she had seen before. She splashed her face with cold water. _More nightmares. No, not nightmares._ _I have to stop thinking like that. They're not nightmares; there is nothing in them to be scared of. My subconscious must really be trying to tell me something. _Isobella sighed and decided to watch some late night TV, sleep was likely to elude her for the rest of the night. When she closed her eyes all she could see were those fingers, and the memory stirred very strong feelings in her. She settled back onto the pillows as she selected a pointless chat show with some very insalubrious guests who she really hoped were actors, and lost herself in the insomniac's wet dream pulsating from the screen.

As Isobella was preparing her breakfast, the phone rang. Checking the caller ID she saw it was her father. Mentally steeling herself for another lecture on how she should move on, find someone her own age who shared her interests etc, Isobella accepted the call. "Good morning darling, how are you doing?" Maurice asked ebulliently. "Fine Papa, you?" Isobella replied, waiting for the lead in to the lecture. "Fine, fine...I thought you might need cheering up, so I've booked us a table tonight at The Hovel". Despite its name, The Hovel was a high end restaurant, impossibly expensive. She'd been in there many times with Mr Gold but her father rarely frequented the establishment, saving it for very special occasions. "You're not doing anything are you?" Maurice checked. "No, no, dinner would be nice" Isobella replied, relieved at the absence of a lecture. "OK, meet you there at eight" Maurice said. "Sure, see you then Papa".

Isobella looked around the apartment whilst eating. She'd had some of the furniture delivered from the second hand store, but had still to plan where everything would go. Naturally she'd picked the wall by the large window in the living room to put her bookshelf against, and ensconced a large, tattered but comfortable, armchair to fit in the corner between the bookshelf and window. The rest of the room held an assortment of mismatched furniture including some meant for the bedroom, however she'd already placed her bed and a small dresser in that room. She hummed to herself whilst mentally placing and then moving the other furniture. Her clock chimed and she dropped the toast she had been munching. _08:30!..._ The grand opening for the library wasn't for another few days, but she had preparations to make; deliveries to accept, books to stack and catalogue, and it wouldn't sort itself out. Hurriedly emptying her bag out on the floor she re-filled it with what she would need for the day, and noticed that the divorce papers that had been left in her bag since meeting Gold in his office were now languishing on the floor, a shameful reminder of a life wasted. Picking the papers up she reached for the pen in her bag, and hesitated. No, this could wait. She had a new life to focus on building. She stalked to her bedroom and shoved the papers into the top drawer, intending to return to them when she had a better idea of what she wanted her life to hold, or maybe to forget about their existence entirely until such a time as the subject was forced.

Isobella rushed down the stairs to the side door that connected her apartments to the backroom of the library. She made it just in time to hear the buzzer ring, indicating the arrival of the first delivery of books, which she accepted with glee. Isobella set about sorting through this delivery and preparing for her meeting later on with Mary Margaret. Mary Margaret had suggested to Isobella that she perhaps bring a small class of children with her one evening a week, after school and after library hours, for further reading and for rehearsals for the school plays that the reading group liked to put on about what they'd been reading. The school just didn't have the right...atmosphere to facilitate this, and Isobella had made the library into a homely calm place that Mary Margaret felt would be better for the class. All they had to do was agree weekday evenings and times that both were free to supervise.

Walking to the restaurant that evening took her past the pawn shop. Slowing her pace she could see the faint outline of a light from under the curtain to the back of the shop illuminated against the dark. Wistfully she thought of the weekends and evenings walking to the shop when she would try to scrape together enough courage to seduce Mr Gold, to act out all the little fantasies she created about him in the back of the shop. And that one night she had managed to do just that. Their first kiss. She'd stayed late in the back room as he'd shut the shop up and flipped the sign to closed. When he walked through the back he was surprised to see she was still there; she'd usually left by the back door by then. He'd asked her why she was still there and she'd told him, praying that she hadn't misread the little signs from him. He'd stood like a rabbit caught in the headlights at her confession, dumbfounded, and then pulled her towards him. The following evening at work any mention from her about the previous night was met with cold silence, or a rebuke that he was paying her to work, not talk. Until closing time again. When he locked the door and flipped the sign to closed and nearly knocked her down when he pushed her back against the display cabinets, kissing her passionately. And it became a little routine for them. Strictly business during business hours. But after hours? _Well anything goes._ Her darkest desires were finally realised. But so careful in front of other people to be nothing more than a boss. She'd finally confronted him, angrily demanding to know why he was ashamed to admit what they had to people, why they had to keep it hidden, what was so wrong with her? And his confession that he wanted it kept secret to keep her reputation intact, he'd been worried she'd be ashamed to be seen with him, to let it be known she was with a much older man, the town despot. She'd put a stop to that; dragging him out on dates all over town. Her father had disapproved at first; insisting she give a relationship with Gaston a proper chance; sure that Gold would tire of her eventually.. He had assumed that because Gold was wealthy and an influential man, and he and Isobella were too different, that nothing would become of their relationship. Isobella was not well travelled, had no money and no influence, nothing to recommend her to a man like Gold, and Maurice had felt that Isobella would be better off with Gaston. But once their engagement was announced Maurice's fears of being permanently financially responsible for Isobella were assuaged. Gold and Maurice were able to hold a shaky truce despite their mutual hatred of each other. Gold had Maurice over a barrel and Maurice knew it. As the town lawyer and a very wealthy man he could easily pull any story that Maurice may plan on running about him and his sometimes less than respectable, although highly legal, deals.

Shaking her head to dislodge the memories she continued on her way to the restaurant. _Snap out of it _she angrily chastised herself. _You've wanted out of that marriage for a lifetime. You've got it now. Sign those divorce papers and move on._


	16. Chapter 16

Isobella arrived at the restaurant and was shown to Maurice's table. Seeing three chairs she shot a look at her father, he hadn't mentioned anyone else joining them, but then she hadn't asked. "Who's the third setting for?" Isobella asked. "Oh, I thought I'd ask Gaston to join us, you and he were such good friends, I thought it would be nice for you to catch up". Grimacing at her father's woefully inaccurate recollection, she saw Gaston sauntering through the door heading towards their table. "Gaston, my boy, glad you could join us" Maurice jumped up and welcomed his favourite enthusiastically. "My pleasure Maurice, wouldn't miss it for the world. Isobella, you look wonderful" He added, turning to Isobella, fixing her with a leer. Maurice's phone rang at this point. "Would you two excuse me, I just need to take this call" he said, walking away towards the exit. "Gaston, I wasn't expecting to see you. Papa didn't tell me you would be joining us until I got here " Isobella said politely, determined to be civil. "Yeah, it was a last minute thing" Gaston replied, mistaking Isobella's politeness for pleasure. Moving his seat next to her he leaned in closer to her. "I've missed you, you know" he whispered, probably in what he thought was a romantic manner. Maurice reappeared with a smile on his face. "You two will have to excuse me, I'm afraid. Emergency at the office, you know how it is" he said, entirely unconvincingly. "Papa!" Isobella exclaimed. "Now now Isobella, you two just enjoy your dinner. I'll return later if I can", knowing full well he had no emergency to attend to. He'd paid a waiter to call his phone. Yes, Isobella would realise Gaston was who she needed. That disastrous marriage to Gold could happily be forgotten.

Isobella sat through the dinner politely making small talk, and throwing in whenever it was appropriate that owing to the recent breakdown of her marriage she was in no mood to start dating again. Gaston ignored her pointed remarks, every little minor success in his life blown up in self aggrandisement and too absorbed in the plans he was making to marry Isobella at the earliest opportunity that he failed to realise that she had no interest in him at all. Isobella let her eyes glaze over at yet another recounting of Gaston's successes on the pitch. Or was it another journalistic success. She really wasn't listening to him so couldn't be sure. If it was at all possible, glamorising his name had actually made him duller. "So, what do you think?" Gaston asked eagerly, jolting Isobella out of her silence. "Sorry?" Isobella replied, "what was the question again?" Gaston frowned at her, incredulous that she hadn't been hanging on his every utterance. "Dessert? We could get one to share. C'mon, your father is paying after all. Why not take advantage of his generosity." Isobella declined as politely as she could manage, desperate to end the worst date of her life. Well, any date she'd been on with Gaston (all of them set up by Maurice) counted as the worst date of her life. "Look Isobella, if you're worried about what your father would say about us, don't be. I already spoke to him about maybe us going out again and he thinks it would be fantastic if we got back together" Gaston reached over the table to try to hold Isobella's hand. She snatched her hand away and tried to remind him that there was never a point when they were together, but he talked over her. "You probably don't realise, and I uh...probably shouldn't say but... he actually set tonight up if you can believe" Gaston mock whispered in a show of conspiratorial intimacy. Isobella glanced up as Gaston stated the obvious. _Gods, does he really think I'm that stupid_ she thought. "Gaston, it's getting very late and I have to get an early night. I really should be going" was the only reply Isobella made. She wasn't prepared to waste any conversation on him, not when he clearly had no interest in listening to her.

Gold left his shop, unable to keep his mind from wandering towards the subject of Belle, or Isobella with the false memories of all their trysts in the shop. He had no hope of finding solace at his house though. False memories of a life with Isobella once happy resounded throughout every room, haunting every corner of his mind. Locking the door he finally turned around, and bile rose in his throat as he caught sight of Belle and Gaston at the door to the restaurant. _So it has finally happened. Belle's returned to her former fiancé of the Enchanted Forest. Isobella has seen sense _he thought, grimly determined to let her live her life. Stepping quietly on the other side of the street he could hear that Belle did not sound happy with her date for the evening. She didn't look happy either. As neither had seen him, he decided to shadow them for a bit.

"It's been nice Gaston" Isobella said as they left the restaurant, civility pouring off her tongue in icicles. "Lets go to the Rabbit Hole, I really don't want tonight to end" Gaston said, entirely missing the warning tone in Isobella's voice. "Gaston, this was not a date. I agreed to meet my father for dinner, and only stayed out of politeness. I'm sorry if you got the wrong impression..." "Isobella, you know I'm right for you" Gaston interrupted her. "I've always cared for you". Gaston moved closer to her as they walked down the street and put his arm around her. "Gaston please. I'm not interested, and I can walk home by myself" Isobella said, trying to disengage his arm from around her waist. Gaston turned and took her other arm, and pushed her against the wall. "C'mon Isobella. Just agree to one more date" he said, trying to move in for a kiss. A cane appeared from behind Gaston, reaching in front of his throat, arresting his forward momentum. "I believe the lady said no" a soft brogue said gently but insistently. "I strongly suggest that you listen to what a lady says" the voice further advised. Gaston let go of Isobella and, turning his head slightly, moved out of her line of vision, revealing the owner of the voice and cane to be Mr Gold. Gaston fully turned around to face Gold. "Back off, she's left you and we are on a date" he said, trying to inject some menace into his voice. "Just leave. Now" Mr Gold's voice dripped with disdain. Gaston, in a rare show of intelligence walked away, with a parting shot of "I'll call you later" aimed at Isobella.

Gold nodded sharply in greeting to Isobella, not sure of what to say now. "Thank you" Isobella said, not feeling very grateful. "You're very welcome" Gold replied as they walked along towards the library. "I er...I was leaving the shop and saw you here. You didn't look very happy" he continued, trying to make it seem like he hadn't been following her since he saw her leaving the restaurant with Gaston, consumed with jealousy that Isobella could be interested in another. Isobella felt she owed her husband an explanation. "I was supposed to meet Papa, he set me up. I had no idea Gaston was going to be there". Isobella said. "You know, I could have handled him. Your intervention has probably undermined me". Gold chuckled. "Isobella, he's never listened to anything a woman has said before. There's no reason to start thinking he'd listen to you I'm afraid". Isobella smiled in reluctant agreement, Gold had a point. "He already thinks you're a monster that imprisoned me. I'd imagine he's telling anyone he can find that will listen that you just assaulted him with your cane" Isobella said, warming to Gold's appearance. Gold nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Indeed. I could always actually assault him with my cane, if you think it would help?" Gold suggested, not entirely joking. Isobella laughed. It had been such a long time since she had laughed with her husband. They'd reached the door of her apartment, and Isobella suddenly felt a little awkward. "Well, I should go upstairs". Regaining some composure she added "Try not to kill Gaston. You don't want to add to the litany of grievances the town has against you already". Gold nodded, leaning on his cane. "Well, I should go" Gold said, deciding to add to the air of awkwardness surrounding them. "Good night then" Isobella said, opening the door, wondering why she was disappointed that the few minutes she had spent with Gold were now over. Gold turned, and walked down the street, equally disappointed at the end of the evening, but relieved that Isobella hadn't been on a date with Gaston. Seeing her with Gaston reminded Gold again that he was a poor choice for Isobella. She could have anyone she wanted but it continually surprised him that she had chosen him. She had seen the good in him once, and now that he knew who he was he could be that man for her again.

Isobella leaned up against the wall by the door, listening to Gold's footfalls receding as he walked away; the ease of their encounter being a painful reminder of how the marriage had ended up. One happy moment couldn't erase years of malaise. _Its over_ she reminded herself. She'd left him and he'd handed her divorce papers. She shakily ascended the stairs to her lounge and walked through into her bedroom. _It's long past time I get this over with_ she rationalised, as she signed the papers hastily stuffed into the dresser in the corner of the room.


End file.
